


The Highwayman

by CreatePeaceFromChaos



Series: Naruto Oneshots [10]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Happy Ending, Inspired by The Highwayman - Alfred Noyes, Izuna is Obito's father, M/M, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26407057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreatePeaceFromChaos/pseuds/CreatePeaceFromChaos
Summary: The highwayman drew back with clear reluctance, his cheeks burning red with blood as he tugged his lace neckerchief back up. “Watch for me by the moonlight.”With that he turned his horse to the west and galloped off into the night.A KakaObi retelling of Alfred Noyes' "The Highwayman".
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito
Series: Naruto Oneshots [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1127369
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	The Highwayman

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to "The Highwayman" by Loreena McKennitt (basically a song version of the Alfred Noyes poem of the same name) and was like "I could make a fic of this".  
> This is the result.
> 
> It follows the poem/song for about half of it, and then deviates.

The night was quiet but for the wind rustling the treetops, moonlight shining down upon the thin ribbon of road that wound its way through the moor from the horizon. Dark clouds drifted overhead, hinting at an oncoming storm even as the full moon shone silver light down upon the earth. The stars, faintly visible now and then, sparkled in the velvet sky.

The sound of hooves on hard-packed dirt was audible long before the source became visible, gently drifting upon the breeze travelling along the winding road. That same breeze brought the sound to the ears of the black-eyed man who sat waiting in the room that had the clearest view of the road. Though the shutters were closed for the night, he could peek through the faint gaps to view any who approached his father’s inn from the west.

It was through the casement that he saw the approaching highwayman. Silver hair gleamed in the moonlight where it peeked out from below his hat, the ostentatious lace necktie tugged up from the hem of his claret velvet coat to cover handsome pale-skinned features. The dappled grey coat of his gelding appeared dull in comparison to his hair, but still caught and held the light of the moon. If not for the colour of his coat, the man would look nothing more than a ghost, an apparition – though a welcome one to Obito if no one else.

The gelding reached the cobblestones at the outskirts of the quiet little town, each step now louder in the near silent night air as the highwayman came riding closer. Closer and closer he came, and Obito quietly opened the casement when the horse was drawn up to a halt beneath his window. His long dark hair fell forward over his shoulder, out of his half-done braid, and Kakashi’s grey eyes creased with a smile as he lifted one gloved hand to touch the locks within his reach.

“One kiss, sweetheart mine, before I go?” he asked softly, rising in his stirrups, and Obito’s lips curled into a smile of his own as he leaned further out his window. His hair fell about them like a curtain, hiding their faces from the outside world, and he reached down one hand to touch his lover’s cheek.

“And why should I oblige you?” he teased lightly, even as he dragged down the lace kerchief that hid his lover’s features from the world. Kakashi pouted.

“Maa, so cruel,” he bemoaned, and Obito laughed quietly before pressing their mouths together in a chaste and tender kiss. “I’m after a prize tonight. I’ll be back at dawn with gold, unless I’m seen and chased.” Obito kissed him again, longer this time but still chaste. “Watch for me by moonlight if I’ve not returned by noon.”

“Come back to me,” Obito whispered, and Kakashi smiled at him as he stroked his gloved hand over Obito’s long dark hair.

“I will always return to you,” he replied, and Obito pressed their mouths together again. The kiss lingered this time, and Obito risked parting his lips to brush his tongue over the seam of Kakashi’s lips. The highwayman drew back with clear reluctance, his cheeks burning red with blood as he tugged his lace neckerchief back up. “Watch for me by the moonlight.”

With that he turned his horse to the west and galloped off into the night.

Obito went about his day at his father’s inn as per usual, though he kept an eye on the road. Kakashi had promised this would be the last time, that after this he would have stashed enough gold and other valuables for the two of them to elope, and Obito was going to hold him to that. Despite appearances, despite what those who saw and met him would believe, he was no useless dainty youth. He could protect himself and could hold his own, and if Kakashi attempted to go back on his word then Obito was more than capable of making him regret it.

“Obito!” his father called, and Obito reluctantly pulled his attention from the road to turn towards Izuna. “Bring up a new keg from the cellar, would you?” He gestured to the road opposite that which Kakashi would return by, and Obito’s eyes widened when he spied the troop marching towards the inn.

The Daimyo’s Guard, all half-masked and cloaked, approached the inn’s front door at a steady pace. Obito fled indoors and to the cellar, taking a moment to collect himself before pasting his usual cheerful smile on his face as he hauled the keg back up to the bar.

The daimyo’s troops were a serious bunch and drank their way through a great deal of ale, watching Obito the entire time. They barely spared a word for Izuna, which greatly brought down Obito’s father’s mood, and Obito yelped a protest when – upon sundown – he was roughly grabbed and manhandled up the stairs to his bedroom. He heard his father protest, heard him shout and try to fight, and cried out for his father when a gunshot sounded, followed by a thump.

“Shut up!” one of the soldiers snarled, grabbing Obito by his long, braided hair and hauling his head back. Obito snarled back wordlessly, struggling and fighting, and tried to wrench his head away as a rag – thankfully quite clean – was shoved into his mouth and bound there securely.

His hands were tied behind his back roughly with rope, keeping him lashed to the foot of his narrow bed. His legs were also bound, pinning him uncomfortably and awkwardly to his bed. Two of the soldiers took up places at the casement through which Obito had spent many a night watching for his lover, their muskets aimed and ready.

“Keep good watch,” one of the other men sneered at him, even as others jeered and laughed and leered as they bound a musket below his chest in silent threat. One of them gripped him by the chin.

“Pretty for a man, ain’t ya?” he smirked, and Obito jerked away from him when the man pressed a rough kiss to his mouth. “Aw, shy, are ya?”

Obito snarled at him through the gag, and one of the others hauled his assailant away.

“Go take your post,” the assaulter was told, and he stomped away to do just that. Obito struggled against his binds, but stopped when the soldier who seemed to be in charge grabbed him by the hair again. “Keep watch for your lover, pretty boy.”

Obito stilled. They wanted Kakashi. They were here for _Kakashi_.

The soldiers snuffed out the candles and settled in to wait, and Obito’s thoughts raced. He could hear Kakashi’s words echoing in his mind over and over again, telling Obito to watch for him by the moonlight.

Someone, somehow, had overheard them and warned the daimyo’s men. They were here to trap and kill Kakashi.

He couldn’t let that happen. Not now. Not _ever_. They were supposed to leave tonight, to ride off over the border and be wed before Obito’s father could intervene. They’d waited _so long_ for this…

And now Izuna was presumably bleeding out on the floor of his own inn, if not dead already, and Obito was to sit and watch as his lover was gunned down on the very night they were supposed to run away together.

A certain resolve settled over him, and a strange calm flooded through him as he twisted and tugged at the ropes binding his hands. He would not let these men kill Kakashi.

His wrists ached, felt raw and chafed and bloody, but finally, upon the stroke of midnight – silent and hidden by the darkness as the night drew long and the moon rose high – he managed to wrangle one hand free of his bindings and touch the trigger of the musket aimed near his chest. He dared not move too much, dared not give himself away, but there was a satisfaction in his heart at having some form of control over the situation. He could see the winding road through the moors, lit well by moonlight, and on the still night air he could faintly hear the sound of hooves.

None of the soldiers seemed to hear, to notice, and Obito strained his eyes and ears for further sign of Kakashi’s approach.

His heart pounded in his chest, beating in time with his lover’s approach. He strained his vision for the first sight of his lover, daring not move nor even breathe too hard while he watched for the highwayman’s approach.

Finally, there he saw him. Just coming over the crest of the hill, at a steady trot, was Kakashi and his dappled grey gelding.

The soldiers began to prime their weapons, and Obito steeled his resolve. He stood as straight as he could, adjusted his grip on the musket, took one final deep breath with his eyes trained upon the distant form of his lover – and his finger squeezed the trigger.

They’d get Kakashi over Obito’s dead body.

***

The crack of a musket echoed in the still air, shattering the calm of the night and startling his horse into rearing. Kakashi wasted no time in trying to see where it had come from, instead turning Shiba’s head to the west and spurring him on without a second’s hesitation. There were shouts and further gunfire from behind, from the direction of the inn his lover called home, but he dared not stop.

“Please be safe, Obito,” he whispered, crouched low over Shiba’s mane, and galloped on through the night.

***

It was just as the sun was rising above the horizon that Kakashi heard the first whispers of what he had fled. The murmur of his lover’s name had him pausing, all blood draining from his face.

Obito the landlord’s son, said the whispers, the landlord’s black-eyed son, had watched for his love in the moonlight and had died in the darkness there.

Kakashi wheeled Shiba around and spurred him back towards the old inn. Curses erupted from his mouth, his lace kerchief falling down about his throat as he shrieked his denial and loss to the sky. His spurs darkened with his horse’s blood.

He cared not what he was riding back into, just that his lover had sacrificed himself to give warning of an ambush that should never have touched Obito or his father.

Shiba’s hooves tossed up white smoke behind him as he raced back along the highway towards where his lover had fallen, pistol in hand and ready to shoot any who dared stand in his way.

The first bullet was almost a surprise as it ripped through his chest, and he tumbled from his horse’s back to the ground as burning pain tore into him. He staggered to his feet, shirt and coat clinging to him and steadily darkening with his blood—

And stopped as a second, third, fourth—

He collapsed to the road, vision darkening, blood pooling about him as he heard the heavy tromp of soldiers’ footsteps come marching towards him, but he could not bring himself to care. Not when his lover had already met the same fate.

_I’ll be with you soon, Obito…_

***

The winds whispered to her, called her to follow. The earth beneath her bare feet shifted and nudged, guiding her towards where the waters murmured for justice to be done.

Musket-fire could be heard, and she slipped through the trees just as a silver-haired figure collapsed in a pool of red. She tilted her head, curious, thoughtful, as the wind brought whispers of love and sacrifice to her.

“That will not do at all,” she murmured, and lifted her hands to clasp them before her breast. The forest moved to her will, surrounding those who had caused harm and dragging them deep into the earth, ignoring their screams and cries.

She stepped lightly upon the road, lips twisting in a moue of distaste as the stones cried to her of the injustices done that past night.

She knelt beside the red-clad body and touched a hand to a pale, bloody cheek, and breathed out life. A gentle green glow settled about the silver-haired man, healing his wounds and soothing his soul, and she rose to her feet once more – white skirts untouched by blood or dirt – before turning her steps towards the wind’s call.

There were two more nearly-dead souls to keep safe this day.

***

He had not expected to wake again. Not after shooting through his own side to kill two of the soldiers who had been lying in wait for his lover. Yet here he was, staring up at a familiar ceiling, feeling quite healthy and whole.

A beautiful woman, brown-haired and brown-eyed with vibrant purple markings on her cheeks, came into his line of sight. She smiled gently, kindly.

“Come, your lover waits,” she murmured, and helped him to his feet. His wrists were healed, and Obito patted himself down in disbelief. No gaping wound in his side, no bleeding marks upon his wrists… what had happened?

“Who are you?” he asked the woman. She just smiled and tugged him gently towards the door.

“Come, your lover waits,” she said again, and this time Obito followed her. She led him to the room beside his own, and there upon the bed sat the familiar figure of his beloved.

“Obito,” Kakashi breathed out when their eyes met, and Obito flung himself across the room into his lover’s arms. Kakashi held him tightly, as if unable to believe he was there, and Obito felt a dampness against his neck where Kakashi’s face was tucked. He clutched his lover back just as tightly. “You were dead. You were dead and it was my fault—”

“That’s enough of that,” the woman said firmly, and Obito reluctantly turned enough to see her. She was still smiling kindly, still ethereal in her pure white gown. “Such a sacrifice should not be punished.” She stepped closer, and bent to touch fleeting kisses to Obito’s forehead and Kakashi’s. “Love such as yours is worth living for.” She stepped back, smiled again, and then she was gone as if nothing had happened.

“…please tell me you saw that too,” Obito murmured, and Kakashi made an agreeing noise. “Huh.”

“OBITO!” Izuna’s voice cried, and Obito jolted and almost wrenched himself from his lover’s arms.

“Father!” he called back, ridiculously relieved to hear the man’s voice, and footsteps thundered up the stairs and to the room in which Obito and Kakashi were still entwined.

Izuna burst through the doorway, dishevelled and panting, and when he saw Obito he collapsed against the doorframe with apparent relief.

“Oh, thank all the gods,” he whispered, and Obito stiffened as a feminine giggle floated through the room.

“Just one goddess, I believe,” Kakashi murmured, something like realisation in his voice. “A certain healing goddess was looking out for us all, I think.” Then he stood and twined the fingers of one hand with Obito’s, and Obito gripped back firmly as Kakashi turned to Izuna. “I can never make amends for what my presence has brought you, but I will spend every day of my life attempting to do so.” Izuna puffed up indignantly, but when he set eyes upon Obito’s face – wide eyed and pleading – he sighed and slumped. Obito clutched Kakashi’s hand tight, worried and still in shock but willing to fight for the right to stay with his beloved.

“My boy clearly loves you, so I suppose I’ll have to make do,” he grumbled. Obito breathed out a sigh of relief and then threw himself at his father to hug him tightly.

“Thank you,” he whispered in Izuna’s ear, and his father sighed and patted his back gently.

“Just don’t go getting yourself hurt by the daimyo’s men again.”

Another feminine giggle drifted through the air, and Obito glanced to the casement where he could see the road upon which Kakashi had always arrived.

The white-clad goddess stood upon the brow of the hill, and she lifted a hand in what seemed like a wave before vanishing once more.

Obito smiled, and as Izuna began questioning Kakashi, he whispered his gratitude to the goddess.

“Thank you, Lady Rin,” he breathed out, and a gentle breeze brushed over his cheek warmly. His smile widened slightly, and then he turned to save his lover from his father’s interrogation.

**Author's Note:**

> I broke my wrist a week ago so apologies if the ending seems abrupt - I wrote this over the past five hours and now my wrist is telling me it is time to Stop.


End file.
